


The Myth of Happiness

by xphantomhive



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M, armin reflecting his life pretty much, can turn into a whole story idk, probably a bad ending, sad sad eremin, sorry i get ideas and things like this happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-29
Updated: 2014-09-29
Packaged: 2018-02-19 04:45:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2375057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xphantomhive/pseuds/xphantomhive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He cannot recall a time he'd been truly happy.</p><p>Or,</p><p>Armin Arlert reflects his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Myth of Happiness

**Author's Note:**

> I get ideas.

Armin's life of misery began early, at the mere age of five. He listened intently, from outside the police office, as they explained to his grandfather what had happened—his parents had both gotten drunk whilst at a party, and his mother had idiotically driven. On the freeway, they'd collided with another vehicle, and had sustained injuries so severe they'd died on the way to the hospital, while in their separate ambulances.

His grandfather had been gifted custody.

When he was seven, he had almost died in a fire. With his grandfather going blind, it was hard to leave him to anything, but he did; like a moron. When he came back from school, the stove was on fire, and he was forced to drag his guardian from the house that was slowly burning to pieces. After that, the older man was hired a nurse to take care of him during the day, despite heavily protesting. Armin knew it was for the best.

At age eight, the bullying began. He endured it, never put up a fight, and never told a soul. He found himself believing it would get better, and even if his grandfather was partially blind, he still noticed the bruises. Armin came up with a stupid story each time, and each time he told a new story his grandfather believed him.

On his tenth birthday, one of the first good things in his life came along—Eren Jaeger and Mikasa Ackerman, who rescued him from the bullies, and patched up his wounds when he fell down. He watched them grow, and grew himself, to the age of twelve. Middle school was boring, Armin hated most everyone, and he figured out he liked boys. It was a very confusing time, and he hadn't a soul to help him through it; but he was still comforted by his grandfather's presence.

The day he turned thirteen, his grandfather passed on. He could remember crying for days, sitting against the wall with a book in his lap, eyes shaded by his grandfather's straw hat; his favorite, the one he always wore, the one he told Armin he needed to wear if he passed away early. And he could remember laughing at that, telling his grandfather he'd live for years.

He had been wrong.

There is one good memory, though, one time things had gone right. The first time he had kissed Eren, who had afterwards confessed while stuttering profusely, a blush on his face, that he had a crush on his blonde companion. And at age fourteen, they began to date.

As always, though, something went wrong. Someone noticed them holding hands, pushed them, and called them fags. It was the first time of many, which lead into Armin crying and Eren whispering in his ear _I love you_ and _don't worry oh god stop crying_ and eventually, he would stop, and he'd dry his tears and they'd cuddle and watch a movie.

And life progressed from there, they aged together and fought, but never once did they think about leaving one another.

Armin thinks this over as he lays in the hospital bed, an array of thoughts clouding his mind. He thinks of his newest memory, of the bright flashing light and suddenly being consumed by darkness, his eyes feeling like they'd been stabbed through, and waking up here; the doctor telling him he'd been blinded by a gunshot. He would no longer see anyone, or anything, and he'd be left with nothing but his thoughts and memories, a haunting picture of Eren's turquoise eyes and brown hair, that he'd no longer see anymore because he couldn't see anything.

"Mr.Arlert," He hears a woman's voice, quietly, and turns his head in that direction. Shuffling, and then soft hands grip his own. "I thought you'd like to know, as no one else is telling you anything, that unfortunately...Eren Jaeger was passed on. He was shot down by the enemy, and the last thing he murmured was _"tell Armin I love him so much, and I'm sorry that I'm adding another bad memory to all of the ones he already has, I'm sorry I've ruined his life so much more, oh god, tell him I'm sorry"_ and then, his heart stopped. I am so sorry." He nods, and tears prick in his eyes, and the nurse leaves him alone.

Now he can imagine the boy who he had loved so much, the one he had never once seen falter or stumble, bleeding out and muttering that he was so sorry Armin was going to have another bad memory added onto the collection.

He calls in the nurse, asks her to bring a pencil and paper, and she obliges.

"What is it you'd like me to write, dear?"

She's sweet, so sickly sweet, like Eren, and he laughs delicately.

"Over a course of days, I'd like you to help me write a book." He hears her say _"okay"_ quietly, and he takes it as an invitation to begin.

"My name is Armin Arlert, and I'd like to tell you about the myth of happiness."

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for a bad ending, I could turn this into an entire story, if someone enjoys it and would like to see it as an entire story.


End file.
